[ S C I S S O R R U S T ]

o                o
ooo                        ooo
ooo oo                                oo ooo
o        o                                 o        o
ooo oo                                oo ooo
ooo                        ooo
o             o
o     o
o     o
o             o
o        Well,       o
o            the edges           o
o               of my world               o
have rusted in
perpetual ochre.

With the snipsnap of
scissor sharp stares and a
mind as blunt as columns of
forgotten ink, my focus fades, my
dream haze is demon shaped; I sit and
I build a castle of glass shards and heavy fog.

My mind is like scissor rust; a coil of golden orange,
wisps of dark metal in corrosive creep. A burn of metal
is so deep behind my eyes that it taints the colour of my iris.

I am like a pair of scissors,
the handles like a halo
hammered in my head.
At the bottom of the ocean
I’ve spent too much time
drowning in my sorrows,
I have rusted,
I am useless,
my corrosive tears
an orange meteor
strikes my smile
in two.

The End

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